


Cadet two Detectives

by deawrites



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites
Summary: Jim moves into an apartment building as a cadet in the Gotham police academy and meets his neighbor, one detective Bullock.





	Cadet two Detectives

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all kudos, comments, criticisms and requests welcome.
> 
> To my wife the only person I ever want to live with.

It was never going to stop raining; or at the very least that’s what it felt like. The rain seemed to have been falling for over a week now and everyone was sick of it, the gutters were over flowing from it, and basements all around the city were flooding.  Regardless of whether it was a heavy down poor or slow drizzle, the droplets were cold and stung the skin; wetting instantly to the bone. People were water logged and weary of the inconvenience and stench of rotting garbage and filth mixed with rain water. The Summer was prophesized to be a humid one, but the heat seemed months away from the wet, cold Spring.  Jim Gordon was a third-year student at Gotham University.

 

He had taken a full course load since freshman year, and attended Summer courses to fast track his bachelor’s degree in criminology. He had completed everything just as he planned, in time for his twenty-first birthday; the date he would come of age to join the Gotham City police academy. Twenty-five weeks of his near future were going to be spent training at the facility and he couldn’t be more excited. He found an apartment complex near the campus and was pleased that rent was cheap enough that he didn’t require a roommate. The floor plan was small but Jim didn’t mind. He didn’t expect to be home much except for taking care of his basic needs, and the rest of the time he would either be on campus, studying or working out.  His mother; Nora; had offered to allow him to live with her while he was at the academy but he refused, too eager to be on his own.

 

The first time he saw the older male was due to a loud argument in the hallway. He pulled his door open slightly to see what all the fuss was about.  There were two men walking down the hall, one immediately captured Jim’s attention and wouldn’t let go except to make cursory observations about the second man. The second man was in his late forties, was short with a haggard demeanor. He wore his gun; a thirty-eight; high upon his hip and his badge clipped to the opposite side of his belt.  He had short, salt and pepper hair, a five o’clock shadow and his suit was rumpled and tie stained. Yet it was his partner that garnered Jim’s intense notice.

 

The second man was younger, perhaps in his early thirties. He had cinnamon red hair, was close shaven and his suit, though inexpensive; was crisp and clean. He was five-eleven had soft green eyes and warm looking hands. He wore his thirty-eight in a shoulder harness and his badge more obvious upon his belt favoring left towards the middle. His voice was mid ranged, and ran down Jim’s spine like stroking fingers. He was handsome and Jim’s heart beat a little faster as the two men drew closer. Jim pushed his door to a bare crack as the redhaired male spoke.

 

“I’m telling you Dix, Doreen is _nothing_ like Pamela. I’m old enough to know what I’m doin’.”

 

Dix snorted. “You’re not old enough to pee by yourself let alone know what the fuck it is you want, **or** need! Listen to me Kid, Doreen is what we call in the bullpen a ‘ _man eater’_. That dame’ll take your soul as well as every red cent you ever make. To the dime, Kid. _To. The_. **Dime**.”

 

The redhaired man scoffed, “Lucky me. I don’t carry around excess change.”

 

Dix soundly struck the redhaired man upon the back of his head, dislodging the fedora he wore. Dix grumbled something unintelligible and the redheaded attractive man protested, and righted his hat.

 

“Jesus, Dix.”

 

Dix struck him again, this time on the back and the redhaired male flinched once more. “Language Harvey. I’m gonna break you of using the good Lord’s name in vain one day or another!” He shook his head. “You ungrateful son-of-a-bastard.”

 

Harvey shifted his annoyed gaze to Dix. “You’ll get no argument from me there.”

 

“Wah, wah, your daddy never loved you. Story of every son’s life, Kid.”  They were just passing Jim’s door and Jim held his breath, lips parted and heart thundering. “They all reach that magical age where you’re ain’t cute anymore.”

 

“Spoken like a true cynic.” Harvey pronounced with tenderness in his tone.

 

“Shud-up you rose colored optimist. There’s no place for you in police work.”

 

Jim watched as the redhaired man, Harvey; pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked an apartment door several down and across the hallway from Jim’s. “I’ll tell that to the Captain tomorrow so he’ll quit scheduling me to work.”

 

“Do that and I’ll more than smack you one upside the head.” Dix complained following Harvey into his apartment.

 

Jim gasped softly on the intake of breath and closed his door. He was shaking a little; thrilled with adrenaline and sexual excitement. He pushed his forehead against his door frame as the fear started to roll up his nervous system. Just when in the hell had he become attracted to males? Well, not all males but this particular one? Jim wet his lips and stepped back from the door, realizing that his hands were shaking. He drew one through his hair and walked slowly into the living room, his legs feeling a little weak. He collapsed onto the couch and lay upon his back, feet perched upon the arm of the sofa, hands joined upon the center of his chest.  Jim was burning with desire to know more about this Harvey person and perhaps what his life was as a detective. That was his in, Jim decided, mind then whirling with feelings and new sensations; and what it possibly meant that he was attracted to this man enough to act upon the urges.

 

After an hour or so of deep soul-searching Jim came to the conclusion that his sexuality stood as it always had been as heterosexual, yet there was something about this particular man that called to him on some level. All be it chemical or not, Jim accepted that he couldn’t just allow this Harvey person to exit his life as unexpected and dramatically as he had entered it.  For now, he would approach the older male as a potential rookie cop seeking practical and professional advice from a seasoned detective. Whatever would, or didn’t occur after that was not something he should concern himself with just yet.  Jim took a few deep breaths calming his body and centering his mind. He smiled a little at himself and his panicked behavior and did his best to let it go.  That was until he put the practice in to motion and sought to instigate contact with Harvey. Then he failed upon three attempts before following through.

 

The first time he had caught Harvey it was by the mail boxes in the front lobby. While Jim was mulling over what to say to the older male Harvey’s cell interrupted the moment and he was out the door once more. Jim watched him hurry away to a black and white that pulled up, lights flashing and away the uniformed officers and detective went. The second time he was alone with him, they passed on the stairs as the intermittently working elevator decided to protest and stopped working for that entire week. Jim was descending and Harvey ascending when Jim looked up at Harvey and realized he was haggard looking, rumpled and looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He was slow in his pace upward and Jim elected to let the poor man just go home to rest, eat the take away he held in a bag in his left hand.  The third time Jim was running late to get to the academy when he rushed past Harvey uttering a quick, ‘Hi!’ before racing to the stair case not even wanting to give the elevator a chance. Harvey said nothing in return, seemingly not have heard him and Jim didn’t have time to look back and check if Harvey was watching him or not.

 

The final time Jim elected to use a different approach all together. He took a shot of vodka for Dutch courage and marched up to Harvey’s door. Ten minutes prior he had heard the man come home, barking something to Dix over his cell before clapping the phone closed in irritation. Jim had granted him a few minutes to settle in before rapping lightly upon the door. He didn’t want to appear either too demanding or over eager. He waited for a few anxious seconds as the music coming from the other side of the door lowered a little and the front door was jerked open. Harvey stood with his suit and tie gone, dress shirt slightly open to reveal the scoop neck of his under shirt. His belt was gone and therefore badge and his gun, belt and shoes thrown off as well.  He hadn’t shaved in two or three days and Jim smirked at the dark shadow of red hairs that would grow into a beard if just given the opportunity too. Green eyes narrowed at him.

 

“Yeah?” Harvey demanded both curious and cautious.

 

Jim swallowed, all the words he had practiced saying within his mind deserting him. “I, uh, live just down the hall from you. In 310 and,” Jim hooked a thumb over his shoulder in indication before becoming lost before Harvey’s analyzing expression. “I’ve noticed the past couple of weeks, well, you’re a detective and I was wondering if,”

 

“No.” Harvey interrupted sharply. “Listen, I don’t fix parking tickets. If you want a cop for that go to the traffic division at the sixty-sixth. For cheaper than the city costs they’ll fix you right up.” Harvey made to close the door and Jim found himself pushing a palm back hard against it.

 

“No, I’m sorry. You misunderstand.” Jim smiled openly at him and kept his hand still upon the door, his gaze burning into Harvey’s wide and friendly. “I’m a cadet at the GCPD academy and,”

 

“Look it, Junior,” Harvey groused annoyed. “I don’t have any ins with any of the instructors nor do I care too. You’re on your own there.”

 

“No!” Jim insisted his hand becoming his forearm as he met resistance from Harvey trying to close the door. “That’s not it either. I just wanted to know if you could talk to me; give me any insights into being promoted from uniform to detective quickly.” Harvey groaned. “Pointers to the job, just day to day. Please?”

 

“Look it, I’m sure you’re a nice kid and all, but I don’t have time,”

 

“I’m a quick learner, open minded and tenacious. I can be of use to you once I graduate. You never know how much of an asset someone can be until you give them a chance.”

 

Harvey exhaled and stepped back from the door to open it wide, grumbling to himself about needing to get his head examined and Dix being right about him being a bleeding heart, sucker. His place was a little on the messy side but nothing out of the ordinary for a bachelor that had a woman in his life. Jim saw evidence of a woman’s presence here and there throughout what was readily visible to him of the apartment. He took the seat upon the leather couch that was offered to him.

 

“What’s your name, Junior?”

 

“Jim Gordon. I only know your first name.” Jim admitted with a little flush to his cheeks. He felt like he had been spying on Harvey rather than merely happened to overhear his name spoken by Dix.

 

“It’s Harvey Bullock. And how do you know it?” There was a sense of pride in Harvey’s face and Jim wondered briefly if he had ever been mentioned in the Gotham Gazette for some case he was working.

 

Jim felt that the truth was best in all instances with Harvey. “I heard your partner say it in the hallway.”

 

Disappointment tinged Harvey’s features as he moved to a desk a few feet away from the living area. He poured them both a whiskey double from the bottle into two tumblers before crossing back to Jim and offering him one. He sat down upon a plush chair directly across from the couch and clicked his glass with Jim’s before taking a sip. “So, why the academy? Why not the military or some actual paying job?”

 

Jim took a swig of the whiskey to steady himself before answering. The truth was sometimes brutal to his internal emotions and now would be no exception. He usually didn’t talk about himself so intimately, if at all but Harvey had asked and Jim didn’t want to deny him the information. After all he was trying to illicit intimacy from the other male and if not through honesty then what was the point? “When I was little my father used to be district attorney for Gotham. He died when I was eleven and all I ever wanted to be after that was a cop. I thought about the military but, in the end I went to college instead.”

 

“Good choice.” Harvey stated deadpan with neither praise nor disdain. “I remember reading about your father when he died.” He remembered the call coming through that night and being a first responder, still in uniform and nearly as frightened as Jim. The child had been in the car with his father and the smell of gasoline was strong and Harvey was convinced that the car would blow at any instant. He did his best to keep Jim calm, thought he did a crap job of it but years later here was Jim seated before him studying to be a police officer himself. Life had a funny way of bringing people together and Harvey elected not to bring up the trauma further for Jim and kept silent his part in that night.

 

Jim nodded. “Thank you.” He shrugged and looked about Harvey’s place before asking, “What I really want to be is a Homicide detective. The sooner I can get out of uniform and pass the detective exam the better. I was wondering how you went from uniform to the department you’re in now.”

 

“You mean homicide?” Jim looked so excited when Harvey revealed his department. “Mine was a pretty normal route, four years in uniform, passed the test, went to fraud, then did a stint in burglary and hit the jack pot when someone retired from Homicide. I knew the department sergeant so that helped put my name in the running for an interview, then my charm and personality carried me through the door.” Harvey shrugged and took another sip of his drink. “Some guys wait a decade or so. Just depends on what type of detective you are and who you know.”

 

Jim nodded. “I’ll remember that.” He thanked Harvey and began asking him question after question, feeling a little more comfortable and settling into the couch and his drink. Forty-five minutes later Jim had abandoned all questioning and Harvey answers in lieu of stories of calls he answered while in uniform. Some of the tales were scandalous, some humorous and others down right tragic. However, Harvey wanted to paint an accurate picture of what Jim was walking into that practical experience gave over academy training.  Jim was having a good time when he realized that the time was getting later in the evening and Harvey must be hungry. He left his cell number with the man and retreated to his own apartment, offer for dinner still upon his tongue. He had chickened out with asking but was quite encouraged by their current interaction that there would be other opportunities to share a meal between them.

 

For the next several weeks Jim would either ring around to Harvey’s apartment or entice him with a text promising dinner if he came over. There were some evenings; rare ones; when either Dix was there or Harvey came home at all hours and was too exhausted to visit. These nights Jim threw himself into studying penal code numbers and laws, or worked out to keep himself sharp and prepared for the following day in training. He would frequently text Harvey throughout the day whenever he could on training breaks and never stopped smiling on the occasions he received a return answer. Not once did Harvey intimate that Jim was a burden or annoyance, and Jim was very careful not to bombard Harvey with questions and hypotheses after a hard shift. They had begun to develop a friendship of sorts, and without realizing it Harvey was becoming Jim’s mentor and idol; something Dix warned Harvey about yet was soundly ignored in favor of engaging with Jim.

 

‘I just found out I’m top in the class for marksmanship.’ Jim typed a text to Harvey late Thursday afternoon. An hour later he received a response.

 

‘Good. Don’t jinx it by shooting yourself.’

 

Jim smirked. ‘Hadn’t planned on it. Can we celebrate tonight at O’Leary’s? We can play darts and I can demonstrate my keen eye hand coordination.’

 

‘Sorry Junior, Dix and I are heading up a taskforce on that Spirit of the Goat killer. No one’s drinking until we bring him in. Police Commish says we can’t lose another rich kid. Gotham’s elite are tired of being reactive and want to get ahead of this thing once and for all.’

 

Jim frowned feeling disappointment, excitement, and fear all jumbled together. ‘Can I help?’

 

‘Pray to your gods we collar this guy and fast. It be nice to come home and catch some sleep and put on clean clothes.’

 

Jim bit his bottom lip. ‘I can get the manager to let me in your place and bring you some things before class tomorrow. Give me a list.’

 

‘You sure?’

 

‘I don’t mind. I want to help you anyway I can. Even if it’s to bring you fresh clothes.’

 

‘Don’t be so over eager. I haven’t done the wash or picked up my dry cleaning.’

 

‘I know how to wash clothes and pick up dry cleaning. I’ll get your ticket when I drop off your change of underclothes tomorrow.’

 

‘My Ma would have really liked you Jim. You’re nice and eager.’

 

‘If you think your deceased Mother would prefer my company to yours…’

 

‘Hey! I didn’t say that.’

 

‘LoL. Text me your list. I’m going to hunt down the manager right now.’

 

‘Thanks Junior.’

 

Jim couldn’t quit grinning at the praise from Harvey, a blush tinging his cheeks. He was aware that Harvey had, had a close relationship with his mother and found the fact endearing. Harvey had begun to trust Jim enough to give him glimpses into his private life. The way Harvey’s expression, tone and body language softened when he spoke of Grace Bullock, and the joy shinning in his eyes made Jim hope that whenever Harvey spoke of him to someone one day that he would at least do so fondly.  Jim wished that his crush wasn’t evident to the man, but Harvey was a detective and had to know. He was just too polite to mention it so he didn’t have to rebuff Jim. Yet as time wore on it was getting harder and harder for Jim to not want to act upon his impulses. Sometimes when he watched Harvey’s lips move while he was speaking, Jim wondered what it would be like to abruptly steal a kiss from them.  What would they taste like? How soft were they? What would the scratch of Harvey’s stubble feel like if he hadn’t shaved versus smooth skin? What would it be like to be consumed by the older male?

 

With questions burning Jim thanked the manager for letting him into Harvey’s apartment and gave it a cursory once over before allowing his fingers to touch and brush over objects he never had touched prior to this visit. This was the first time he was alone in Harvey’s home and the atmosphere felt different. He went to the roll top desk that Harvey had stood near the front door and looked through the mail that was laying upon it. Most of it was just the typical utilities bills and solicitations for credit cards and car loans. He picked up an unframed photograph that had been taped to one of the cubby hole rims and looked closely at it. Harvey was in the middle of what could only be described as a pack of children. There were at least fifteen of them, covering the spectrum of ages and every one of them was smiling their face off or laughing. There was one little girl with two missing front teeth holding her cheeks open with her hooked fingers and sticking out her tongue. The image she cut made Jim smirk and he pressed the picture back onto the cubby rim. He wondered if that were a picture of all of Harvey’s nieces and nephews. It was taken outside in what looked like a park area during the Summer time. Jim had a feeling had not been taken in Gotham and continued his unobserved snooping.

 

In a drawer he discovered a bible that turned out to really be an address book. Jim wondered if that was perhaps Harvey’s commitment to his family showing first prior to his spirituality. Abandoning the desk a few minutes later Jim headed to a shelf mounted on the wall where stacks of dime store novels rest, each a mystery, each dog eared and well read, each old and stained with coffee and water damage and tears. One didn’t even have a cover any longer, another was losing its pages and held together with a rubber band. These were the tomes that Harvey must love and Jim thought about brining one to the hospital with him. He chose one of the ones from the bottom of the pile figuring they hadn’t been re-read most recently, to take with him to sample. From there he went through the kitchen to see what may; or was not as it turned out; to be in the refrigerator and cabinets. From that room he moved to the bedroom and Harvey’s closet where he found the bag; that Harvey had instructed him to use; and a lock box with what Jim assumed was a secondary weapon that Harvey only used in extreme circumstances. The bed was unmade, clothes were piled in a kitchen chair that Jim assumed meant they were in need of washing. From here Jim made quick work of gathering the items that Harvey requested and found the spare apartment key in a bedside drawer; just where he was told it would be. He made a promise to himself to return to Harvey’s place and do some washing up before the man returned home.

 

While Jim was reluctant to leave Harvey’s world, he had to hurry by the dry cleaners and pick up the older man’s suits. Jim was quite excited about going to the GCPD to drop off his things. To see the squad room in a flurry of action over the Spirit of the Goat case, to see Harvey, to just be where he one day would work in the trenches. A soft little smile barely left his face until he was faced with the desk Sargent who identified him as, ‘the kid Bullock sent for’ and demanded Jim hand over the bag. When Jim politely refused and said he wanted to deliver Harvey’s belongings himself, the dismissive Sargent point blank told him that ‘the detectives on duty are too busy for show and tell today’ and heartbreakingly further that Harvey, ‘told me to take his stuff from you kid’.  Defeated, Jim handed over the bag and suits before exiting the station house. Once outside he sent Harvey a quick text to let him know that his belongings were delivered as promised. It was a sullen subway ride back to their apartments and Jim let himself into Harvey’s apartment and began cleaning.

 

In the end he tidied up the bathroom cleaning the sink and toilet. He did the same in the kitchen with the dishes in the sink and the open counter spaces. He washed the sheets and towels, grabbed the clothing from the chair and washed whatever didn’t need to be dry cleaned. That which did he dropped off at the same dry cleaner he had just been too and placed the ticket upon the kitchen table with Harvey’s mail. It had been blind luck that he had returned from the dry cleaners just in time to greet the mail man at the boxes, and therefore was able to retrieve Harvey’s mail, leaving his own. Though he didn’t have much money to spend, Jim picked up a few items at the grocery store that were nonperishable or would last longer than a week and stocked Harvey’s kitchen with them. Last task completed he slid the apartment key far under the locked door and returned to his own apartment to study and eat dinner.

 

Jim didn’t hear from Harvey much in the next week and a half and then he read in the paper that Randall Wilkie; the Spirit of the Goat killer; had been shot by police and in the ensuing confrontation Harvey’s partner Dix had been seriously injured. Jim attempted several times to catch Harvey and offer his condolences; to check up on how he was doing to no avail. He either missed Harvey altogether or was told over texts that he was not up for company. Jim settled for a long text of offered comfort and hoped that it would mean something to the older male in his obvious time of need. As the weeks passed Jim was too wound up in his own world of study and training, and before he knew it he was graduating from the police academy.  He had only seen Harvey in passing and received only a wave of acknowledgment so Jim just smiled gently in return as he nodded at Harvey.

 

Within a few weeks of being a uniformed patrolmen Jim moved out of the building and into a better apartment tenement uptown. Through his work he occasionally ran into detectives but Harvey was decidedly different from the man Jim had known before. He was lax with his police work, often smelled of alcohol and didn’t have time for some Uniform that claimed to know him. Jim kept his head up but he worked hard and soon his path went from Uniform to detective. He passed the exam on his first try and scored high enough that precincts should have been vying for his attentions, but his reputation as a goody two shoes that followed the penal law and didn’t take bribes had the precincts arguing about whom should be saddled with him instead. In the end Jim was fortunate and the precinct where Harvey worked was shorthanded and turned out to be the losing station house. When Harvey didn’t even fire a spark of recognition Jim’s way, Jim’s disappointment of being forgotten and seeing his onetime idol now a complete opposite of the person and detective he was, sickened Jim. He lashed out verbally and then physically at the man. They had a shoving match and if not for their Captain’s insistence would have refused out right to work together in any capacity, never mind on a case.

 

Three years into their partnership and Jim said nothing about their past connection, wondering if Harvey even remembered him at all and was just too embarrassed to mention it. He got his answer unexpectedly one night while Harvey was sprawled on his couch with a beer in one hand and an ice pack in the other. The icepack he held to his forehead for a brief instant before placing it back on his swollen knee.  Jim returned from the kitchen having washed the blood from his face and collapsed beside his partner. They looked at one another and Jim smirked; just another beating on a typical day of being partnered with boy scout Jim Gordon.

 

“You want to take a swing at me too?” Jim asked pushing his own ice pack against the side of his face. The bruising would be obvious for weeks most likely.

 

“I should.” Harvey bitched before taking a swig of beer. He placed the bottle on the coffee table before groaning and elevating his foot up beside it. He ran his free hand back through his hair and leaned his head back upon the ridge of the couch. “You’re going to get me killed, and yet I’m dumb enough to go chasing after you.” Harvey sighed and closed his eyes. “Just like you did me when you were in the academy.”

 

Shocked Jim lowered the ice pack and stared at Harvey until he opened his eyes and looked straight at him. “What? I remembered.” He grunted, the sound resembling a laugh and continued, “You were all adorable then; hopeful, not angry all the time; excited to be alive. But I could have told you how’d that end, I just didn’t have the heart too. Just like I didn’t tell you crushing on me would end in disappointment.” He motioned to himself in indication of the changes that had taken place after Dix was injured.

 

“I’m not **disappointed** in you Harvey.” Jim announced firmly, then his tone softened. “Yes, you changed for a while, but you’re changing now too. For the better; I see that; I know you feel it; so no: I’m not disappointed in you.” Jim took a breath and held Harvey’s worn gaze. “I never stopped crushing on you.” He admitted tenderly before looking away. “You just didn’t want anything to do with me, which: given **my** track record saved you disappointment.” Jim shrugged and fidgeted with the ice pack he had resting upon his thigh. He could feel the weight of Harvey’s gaze and it made him uncomfortable.

 

“Jim?” Jim said nothing and continued to stare down at the ice pack in his lap. “Jim.” At the sharper tone Jim was compelled to raise his gaze to Harvey’s. He swallowed upon seeing the intensity of emotion wetting it. “You’re the furthest thing from being a disappointment. And, I love you.” Stunned, Jim gaped at Harvey. “Yeah, Junior. I love you too.”

 

The next instant they were kissing, Jim catapulting himself up and to Harvey. His one knee braced on the couch and the other foot on the floor. His hands were in Harvey’s hair and his mouth devouring that of his partner. Harvey encircled his arms about Jim and pulled the younger male further against him as they continued to exchange impassioned kisses. Jim was saying with his body what words were on the tip of tongue: He loved Harvey and was not about to ever stop.


End file.
